


i cast away upon your lips

by phantomwised



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, FaceFucking, Light D/s, M/M, Oral Sex, Poly 97z is only implied but like its Very Implied, Seokmin has a praise kink, gagging, idk i just wanted minghao to suck dick with lipstick on, idolverse, lipstick kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 18:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19362085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomwised/pseuds/phantomwised
Summary: “Lipstick? It looks good.” Mingyu says, eyes turning up into little crescent moons, smile hidden behind his black mask. He shuffles the bags in his arms with some difficulty, clearly ready to leave and head back to the dorm.Seokmin says nothing, and Minghao is surprised to find his eyes still glued to the lipstick on Minghao’s wrist, jaw moving silently under his own face mask.“Min?”Seokmin jumps, eyes darting from Minghao’s wrist to his eyes and back again.





	i cast away upon your lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knightspur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightspur/gifts).



> Okay so I've been out of the fanfiction game for nearly a decade, and haven't written _at all_ in 3 years, so there's probably some tense/grammar fuckups in here. Also first time giving kpop fic a shot and I'm not entirely solid on my characterizations yet. So.
> 
> Big shout out to my best friend and soulmate, Rae/knightspur, for telling me I could do it. This one's for you, you massive 97zfucker! <3
> 
> Title from The Death of Me by Marianas Trench

Minghao has never been shy when it comes to makeup. Maybe it’s part of being accustomed to the idol lifestyle, of going days at a time only catching glimpses of his bare skin in the bathroom mirror at night before he collapses, exhausted, into bed. Red shadow under his lids, black liner accentuating the already sharp angle of his eyes, BB cream hiding the minor imperfections that fleck the edges of his cheeks and jaw. At this point, he’s just as used to his face in full makeup as he is to it without.

Which is why, when the promotional display for a new brand of lip colour catches his eye, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. He’s in a shopping centre, out for a rare break from Seventeen’s endless schedule with Mingyu and Seokmin, and the cosmetics shop is the last stop they _have_ to hit to replenish their supply of makeup cleanser and concealer for the dorm.

Seokmin and Mingyu wander further into the store, chatting excitedly as they compare fancy face masks, leaving Minghao in front of the sleek cardboard display, catching his bottom lip between his teeth under his dust mask as his eyes rove over the vibrant shades of lipstick. Strictly speaking, he doesn’t need his own lipstick when the hair and makeup noonas bring whatever shade he needs for promotions, but something about the glossiness on the display pictures keeps him rooted to the spot. The cherry red would play nicely off his black hair, he thinks, and he’s had so little chance to experiment with style changes since his hair was redyed.

He grabs the tester tube before he can think better of it, uncapping the lipstick and dragging a line of brilliant red across the skin of his inner wrist.

“Minghao?” Seokmin’s voice comes from much closer than Minghao expects, startling him out of his focus. “Did you get everything you needed?”

He has not, in fact, but a glance at Seokmin shows that he and Mingyu have both evidently come to an agreement about their facial products and have made their purchases already. Plastic bags with the store logo hang off their arms along with the multitude of others from earlier shopping (most of which, Minghao knows, belong to Seokmin and his impulse shopping, pawned off on Mingyu when the vocalist’s arms got too full).

“Ah, no,” Minghao apologizes, placing the test tube back on the display, “Sorry, I won’t take too long.”

“What’s that?” Mingyu asks, peering over Seokmin’s shoulder to look at the line of colour on Minghao’s exposed arm.

“Nothing.” Minghao shakes his wrist out of habit, oddly embarrassed about being caught, “Just checking it out.”

“Lipstick? It looks good.” Mingyu says, eyes turning up into little crescent moons, smile hidden behind his black mask. He shuffles the bags in his arms with some difficulty, clearly ready to leave and head back to the dorm.

Seokmin says nothing, and Minghao is surprised to find his eyes still glued to the lipstick on Minghao’s wrist, jaw moving silently under his own face mask.

“Min?” 

Seokmin jumps, eyes darting from Minghao’s wrist to his eyes and back again.

“Ah? Oh, um, yes?” He trails off into a squeak at the end, and Minghao _knows_ he was admiring the way the glossy red tint stands out on his skin.

“You okay? I’ll be quick, meet you guys outside the store in 5 minutes?” Minghao can feel his own smile starting to break across his face.

“Yeah,” Seokmin’s voice is strained, and he doesn’t seem to know where to direct his eyes, “We’ll just. Uh. Wait outside.”

He all but runs past Minghao out of the store, bags rustling loudly and red creeping in to colour the tips of his ears. Mingyu follows behind him at a slower pace, clearly confused.

Minghao grins, and grabs a new tube of red lipstick from the display.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The lipstick burns a figurative hole in his pocket for the next several weeks.

Between their Japanese activities and individual schedules, Minghao’s had less time at the dorms than he’d like, and less still that isn’t accompanied by the rest of the group stomping in alongside him.

So when Seungcheol announces that they’ve got the night off and motions to go out for food and soju, Minghao is quick to beg off, claiming that he’s too tired to drink, and grabbing Seokmin by the wrist to keep him company.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, but says nothing as he grabs his jacket and herds the rest of the members into the hallway to leave.

As soon as the front door clicks shut Minghao tugs Seokmin along, ignoring the other boy’s confused whining as he ushers him into the tiny room that belongs to him and Mingyu. Minghao wastes no time spinning Seokmin around, backing him up until the backs of his knees hit Minghao’s mattress and he sits with a surprised huff, Minghao standing over him.

“Minghao, what-” Seokmin’s question is cut off by Minghao reaching a hand into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a now-familiar black tube and dangling it in front of Seokmin’s face.

“You remember this?” Minghao asks, pulling the cap off of the lipstick and twisting it up, Seokmin’s eyes zooming in on the red now inches away from his own nose.

“I,” Seokmin swallows, eyes flickering from the lipstick to Minghao’s face, and Minghao is struck with the memory of the face he made in the cosmetics store all those weeks ago. He has the same expression now, half awe and half hunger, and it makes Minghao’s heart beat harder in his chest.

Instead of saying anything further, Minghao puts a knee up onto the bed, forcing Seokmin to shuffle backwards until Minghao is able to straddle him. Reaching down, he grabs Seokmin’s hand with his free one, pressing the lipstick tube into Seokmin’s palm.

Seokmin stares up at Minghao like he’s not entirely sure what’s happening, so Minghao settles himself down a little harder in Seokmin’s lap, licking his lips in anticipation.

“Put it on me,” he says, pulling Seokmin’s hand up toward his face.

Minghao knows how good the red tint looks on his lips, had taken time on quiet nights when no one was using the bathroom to test it out, admiring the way the cherry lipstick looks against the inky black of his hair and the light tan of his skin.

Seokmin knows now too, by the way his breath hitches in his throat as he draws the lipstick over Minghao’s lips with shaking hands. He’s trembling badly enough that Minghao is sure he must’ve missed some parts of his lips, but he holds his mouth slack anyway, allowing Seokmin to finish.

Minghao purses his lips when Seokmin lets the tube fall away from his face, opening them with an audible _pop_ that has Seokmin gasping in a breath.

“Thanks,” he breathes, plucking the lipstick out of Seokmin’s shaking hand, capping it before tossing it onto the bed beside them.

“M-Minghao…” Seokmin starts, clearly torn between looking at Minghao’s eyes or his mouth. They’re close enough now that Minghao can feel every breath that Seokmin takes, “I really want to kiss you right now. Can I kiss you?” 

Instead of answering, Minghao leans in to close the bare inches of space between them, pressing their closed lips together in a chaste kiss. He feels Seokmin inhale a sharp breath before melting into the kiss, lips parting slack before Minghao does so much as ask for entrance.

So eager, Minghao thinks, and rather than deepening the kiss like Seokmin clearly wants, he pulls away to admire the faint stamp of red he’s left on Seokmin’s mouth. The vocalist shifts beneath him and Minghao can feel the press of his half-hard cock through their pants.

“Hmmm?” Minghao teases, rolling his hips down once just for the pleasure of seeing the way Seokmin groans, biting on his lip like that’ll keep the sound trapped, “It hasn’t even been ten minutes yet. Did one kiss get you hard, Seokminnie?”

Seokmin shoots a halfhearted glare Minghao’s way, ruined by the flush of red across his cheeks and the tips of his ears, “It’s not. Not just the kissing.”

His embarrassment is so earnest that Minghao can’t help but laugh, lifting his hands up from his sides to tangle them in the back of Seokmin’s hair. Seokmin groans, following the gentle pressure of Minghao’s grip to tilt his head back so Minghao can press a cherry-red kiss to the center of his throat, “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the lipstick, would it?”

Seokmin doesn’t answer but it was a rhetorical question anyways, and Minghao latches back onto the kiss mark on Seokmin’s throat, this time with his teeth. Seokmin keens, hips bucking as Minghao works at the sensitive skin of his neck, biting and sucking carefully to avoid leaving marks that will give them trouble with the makeup noonas.

“Hao--” One of Seokmin’s hands manages to find the back of Minghao’s head and he threads his long fingers through Minghao’s black locks, pressure hesitant like he isn’t sure if he wants to pull Minghao away or keep him close.

The grip at the back of his skull makes Minghao grin, and he follows the gentle tug of Seokmin’s hand away from his throat to seal their lips back together. The kiss is sloppy, Seokmin’s tongue laving into Minghao’s mouth this time and Minghao groans around it just to enjoy the way the boy under him chokes on a breath.

He could be getting a little high off the power he has over Seokmin right now.

A thin trail of saliva bridges between their mouths when they separate, and Minghao admires the way the wetness shines on Seokmin’s swollen lips. Licking his lips, he lifts himself out of Seokmin’s lap, brushing not-so-accidentally over the tent in his jeans as he does so. Seokmin whines and Minghao lowers himself to the floor, arranging himself between Seokmin’s knees in a way that would be unmistakable to anyone who saw them.

“I wanna suck you off,” he says, though it really doesn’t need saying. It’s worth it for the way Seokmin’s eyes go a little more unfocused, how he nods his head so vigorously it leaves his hair tousled across his forehead.

Minghao doesn’t waste his time popping the button on Seokmin’s jeans and pulling down the fly, and by the hiss of _fuck_ under Seokmin’s breath, the release of pressure is much appreciated. Tugging his jeans down to his knees, Minghao mouths at the dark fabric of Seokmin’s boxers, tasting the hint of salt from the precome that’s already soaked into the cotton.

“Minghao, _god,”_ Seokmin groans, leaning back on his elbows. Minghao could take his time, tease Seokmin through his underwear until he was a trembling, babbling mess, but time is a valuable thing and neither of them know exactly how much of it they have before the rest of the group gets back.

It doesn’t stop Minghao from letting the elastic of Seokmin’s boxers snap back hard against his belly once before he slides them down too, just to hear Seokmin yelp.

Seokmin’s dick is leaking and flushed pink and Minghao has half a thought of _ah, cute,_ before he wraps a fist around the base and gives it a quick tug, bending forward to lick up the precome beading at the slit. Seokmin jerks in his grip, trying to push his hips up into Minghao’s fist, and Minghao fails at biting down a smirk.

“Hmmm? Is that how you wanna play, Minnie?” Minghao asks, circling his thumb around the head of Seokmin’s cock. Seokmin pants down at him, curiosity on his face, as Minghao tilts his cock down to rest on his slack bottom lip. He reaches a hand onto the mattress, finding Seokmin’s own where it’s bunched up in the bedsheets, and pulls it back down to his head in an invitation.

“You can fuck my face, if you want.”

Seokmin’s brain takes a few seconds to catch up to his ears, and he looks at Minghao’s red-flushed face and even redder lips, mouth stretched wide for him and tongue just barely poking out atop his lower lip. Perfect, just waiting for something to fill it.

“Yeah fuck, okay,” Seokmin breathes, tangling his fingers in Minghao’s inky hair with purpose, guiding the head of his cock into Minghao’s open mouth. Minghao hums, pleased, when Seokmin finally begins thrusting shallowly, keeping his mouth slack and letting the hand in his hair control him.

It’s good, Minghao knows, but Seokmin is gentle to a fault and the heat pooling in Minghao’s own gut is beginning to burn him up, begging for attention. He grinds the heel of his palm into the tent of his pants and groans, the sudden vibration causing Seokmin to thrust harder, cock sliding into Minghao’s throat. Minghao moans louder at the feeling, his free hand scratching lines into the skin of Seokmin’s thigh, and his eyes meet Seokmin’s, trying his hardest to convey _yes, god please, keep going._

Seokmin seems to get the message, each thrust pressing deeper into the tight heat of Minghao’s throat until he gags from it, throat constricting around the head of Seokmin’s cock and _fuck,_ that shouldn’t feel so good but it does. Minghao digs his nails into Seokmin’s leg when he feels him start to pull back in concern, dives forward against the hand in his hair to chase Seokmin’s cock.

“Minghao, fuck,” Seokmin hisses, eyes glued to Minghao’s lips stretched thin around his cock, and Minghao presses forward again. The sounds coming from his mouth are _vulgar,_ saliva running from the corners of his mouth and down his neck, soaking the collar of the shirt neither one of them had thought to remove.

Minghao takes Seokmin’s next thrust to the back of his throat and holds him there with the grip on his thighs, nose pressed into Seokmin’s pubic hair and wet choking noises coming from his throat as his muscles spasm around Seokmin’s cock before he pulls all the way off. He hovers at the head of Seokmin’s cock, lungs sucking in desperate breaths of air, mouth swollen and red in a way that isn’t just from the lipstick anymore, and Seokmin’s cock twitches in his hand, wet and so so _so_ close.

“D’you wanna come baby?” Minghao asks, voice strained but steady. He lifts his hand from Seokmin’s thigh to circle a finger around his slit, dipping in slightly and Seokmin nearly comes right there, but Minghao tightens his grip around the base of Seokmin’s cock, tutting disappointedly, “Mmm not yet, use your words first.”

“H,” Seokmin pants, tongue suddenly too thick to form words, “Hao, _please_ i want to come!”

“That’s my good boy,” Minghao purrs, sealing his mouth around Seokmin’s dick again and sucking hard on the head, hand dropping away from the base to slide under Seokmin’s balls to press a thumb firmly to his perineum.

“Oh f--” Seokmin can’t even choke out the word as he tenses up, and Minghao takes that last moment to surge forward once again, Seokmin’s cock bumping the back of his throat as he comes directly down Minghao’s throat, buried so deep Minghao can’t even swallow.

Minghao pulls off with a deliberate _pop!_ and Seokmin is immediately pulling him up onto the bed, into his lap once again as he clumsily shoves down Minghao’s joggers and briefs, wrapping around his neglected cock as their mouths come together in another filthy, desperate kiss.

The heat in his gut is an inferno now, too many coils wound tight in his belly and it only takes a few tugs before he comes, spilling over Seokmin’s fist and onto his thighs with a long groan. He lists to the side, Seokmin giggling breathlessly as they lay down beside each other, basking in their post-orgasmic high.

“Fuck, that was good,” Minghao sighs, fingers trailing to Seokmin’s bare thighs, drawing mindless shapes in his own come there. He thinks that they probably both look a little stupid, shirts still on and soaked with sweat and their pants tangled around their knees, but at the moment all Minghao feels is the contentment of a good fuck.

“Mmm,” Seokmin agrees, kissing Minghao’s lips again, “How’s your throat?”

“Worth it.” Sore, but Minghao won’t tell him that because Seokmin is a horrible worrier and would spend the next week torn up about it. And probably wouldn’t be as eager to try it again next time.

Seokmin laughs, rolling onto his back, “At least tomorrow is only choreo practice, I don’t think Jihoon-hyung would be very pleased with your singing voice,” he makes a face, shoving an arm underneath his back and pulling out the forgotten tube of lipstick Minghao had thrown there earlier, “Oh.”

“Maybe I’ll let you make me up more often,” Minghao teases, running his thumb along his mouth and admiring the bit of red that rubs off on it, “You know, since you liked it so much.”

“Ugh,” Seokmin groans, handing the lipstick back to Minghao, “Was I really that obvious? I didn’t think I was that obvious.”

“Only to me. I don’t think Mingyu noticed.” He twirls the tube between his fingers, grinning.

“ _God,_ ” Seokmin’s whine is exaggerated and he sits up, making a face at the mess on his legs. Minghao snorts and grabs a handful of tissues from the box on his bedside table, throwing them in Seokmin’s direction for him to clean himself up with, “Should we try to clean up a bit?”

Minghao looks at Seokmin, jeans down and cock soft between his thighs, hair sticking up in a truly impressive display. The small bedroom smells of sex, and Minghao knows by the lingering numbness in his own mouth that his lips are swollen and bruised. They’re an unmistakable, well-fucked sight.

“Nah.” He grins, leaning back and kicking his joggers all the way off before uncapping the lipstick once more.

“Mingyu will be home soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuses I just think that goth!Hao should wear lipstick always


End file.
